The Heart of Darkness: Part 1
by Zeraxx Ataron
Summary: A few original characters I made combined with the world of a web comic, Homestuck. It follows the path of Christopher Floyd and his friends as they work to discover their true purposes in life. This first part introduces Christopher and his Guardian.


*Bleep* *Bleep* *Bleep*

Rudely awakened from his sleep, Christopher Floyd sighed as his Pesterchum rang relentlessly. What time was it? He rolled over in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at the atomic clock on his nightstand.

"3:30? _Really_?" Chris more or less rolled off his bed and trudged to the computer room. As he walked through the hall and got closer to the computer, the bleeping began to get louder.

Damn Pesterchum. He thought to himself. Might have woken Sis. Oh shit! He quickly turned around to see if his Sis was awake. Door still closed. Thank God. If she doesn't get her sleep, the world might as well just sodomize itself with a chainsaw; it would be less painful than the hell she'd unleash. Seriously, there'd be volcanoes spewing the blood of first-born children! Decapitated fetuses would invade homes and eat the inhabitants like kebabs! There would be-!

Stop. You're getting off track. There's plenty of time to think about how Sis would kick your ass if she was woken up. Right now, you have to deal with the idiot that's pestering you. Chris quietly opened the door, making sure to keep it from squeaking. Upon closing it, he hurried to the computer. The bright yellow outline of the program flashed with unyielding intensity. It illuminated his brown, pointy hair, as well as his sharp jaw line. Chris rubbed his eyes, burned by the intensity in the pitch dark. He grabbed the mouse and clicked to see who it was.

"torpidCartographer?" He was almost done being surprised by the time he'd said it. TC was always up late. But… this was the first time he'd messaged _you _so late. Well, whatever.

"Let's see what you have to say," Chris muttered to himself as he clicked on TC, finally shutting off the bleeping.

*brokenThunder began pestering torpidCartographer at 3:32*

BT: WTF Dan? You could have woken my Sis! :(

TC: dude, calm down. this is important.

BT: More important than getting beaten?

TC: i know your sister is like a fucking prize fighter and all, but she won't kill you.

BT: Shows how much you know. Whatever. What's so damn important it couldn't wait until after O'dark thirty?

TC: dude, i'm trying to do something nice for you.

BT: Go ahead. I'm awake… kinda.

TC: k, so, you know the new SBURB beta?

BT: Yeah.

TC: well, i was putting the squeeze on an admin that works for company that distributes it, and I GOTS ADVANCE COPIES!

BT: No fucking way! For me?

TC: yup :D

BT: Flippin' sw33t! Thank so much!

TC: *throws you the thumbs up.*

BT: Oh, hey, I'm not complaining or anything, but why did you get this for me?

TC: wow, fail.

BT: What?

TC: seriously dude? it's your 18th birthday. like, right now.

BT: Oh wow. I'm a dumbass XD

TC: yeah lol. figured the news might make the rarest of occurrences happen: you cracking a smile. but i hit fucking gold here. i got *emotion* and *laughter* out of you. holy shit. call the fucking news.

BT: Yeah, yeah. Just send me the copies already.

TC: hold on. i'm savoring the moment.

BT: Dan?

BT: Dan?

TC: jeez, ok! hold on.

BT: …OK, got'em. Now to just inst

TC: chris?

TC: oh shit! did they have a virus? that fucking admin douche! i'll kill him!

BT: DAN.

TC: oh thank god. thought you got a virus!

BT: NO. CHRIS' COMPUTER IS FINE.

TC: wait. why are you talking like that?

BT: BECAUSE I'M NOT CHRIS. NOW GO BACK TO BED.

TC: wait. you're his sister, aren't you?

BT: WHAT DO YOU THINK?

TC: oh god. um… oh shit… sorry for waking you! won't happen again!

BT: GOOD. NOW GO TO SLEEP.

TC: wait! can you just let SBURB install?

BT: GOODNIGHT DAN. AND REMEMBER, I'M FRIENDS WITH YOUR SISTER.

TC: you are?

*brokenThunder ceased pestering torpidCartographer at 3:41*

TC: fuuuck.

Chris groaned as he opened his eyes. Pain. Lots and lots of pain. Mostly coming from his abdomen. He pulled up his shirt to find large, purple, fist-shaped welts on his stomach.

"And that's when she punches soft." He painfully slumped himself out of bed and zipped up his jeans. After pulling his custom range jacket on over his black shirt, Chris donned his signature pointy sunglasses and walked over to the computer. SBURB was paused. He tried unpausing… damn. Password lock. Apparently Sis was really angry. Great. Chris ambled through the hall in search of breakfast.

"Hey. Come here." Chris froze. His heart beat ice-cubes for a second. It was a feminine voice, but one which was meant more for commanding an army than commanding him. It resonated through the house. Just three words. They had such powerful charisma and force behind them. They might as well be three Mike Tysons storming into his ears.

Chris slowly made his way to the living room. Sis was sitting on the couch, watching UFC. Her lean figure was accentuated by the tight-fitting, black Led Zeppelin shirt she wore. Her black jeans also fitted tightly. God, her legs were made of concrete. Just looking at them brought back memories of getting the shit beaten out of him when they sparred. He had to smile a little though; it was her way of showing she cared about him. Her short, blond hair was pointed in the back, highlighting her sharp facial features. With a body made for ass-kicking, it was a wonder how she managed to look so feminine at the same time. She leaned back and patted the seat.

"Sit." The couch creaked slightly. Sis turned off the TV and stared into space. Chris nervously fiddled with a bullet he'd found in his jacket pocket. It seemed like an eternity until Sis spoke.

"You're 18 now. And…" She continued staring into space, but Chris could see her face crinkle almost imperceptibly.

"And that means you'll want to have your own life soon." Was there a hint of sadness there?

"But…I want you to know I'll always be your big Sister. And you'll always have a home here… if you need it," It seemed to Chris that the real end of that sentence might have been "If you want it."

Holy shit! Was Sis being…emotional? All his life Chris tried to emulate his Sis' cool and refined indifference. He just stared at her, feeling confused and touched at the same time. She briefly turned her head toward him. Her stare reminded Chris of a falcon looking at its prey from the air, just before it dove in for the kill. Her blue eyes shone like twin sapphires under a light. She quickly averted her eyes once again.

"I got you something." She reached behind the couch and brought out a large box with a bow on it. Chris took it in silence. Sis watched as he opened it, giving him her falcon stare. Chris reached in and pulled out a large bundle of CDs. Were they…? They were! The Complete Hard Rock Fan's Collection! Chris suppressed a smile and cleared his throat. Sis was still boring into him with her eyes. He put the CDs down and reached in again. The Authoritative Guide to Arms and Ammo? Nice! He put that down as well. The third time he reached in, Sis followed his arm in and out of the box. Chris' eyes widened as he drew out a smaller box, this one with a print on it that said "Fetch Modus". He slowly opened it and pulled out about 40 Captchalogue cards with targets on the back. He felt them for a little, when Sis interrupted his marveling.

"It's called 'Locked Target' modus. You shoot the card with the item you want to pick to release it. Until then it stays locked from anyone. Here, equip something." Chris looked around and picked up some of his Sis' hand wraps. He equipped them to a card.

"Now you just shoot it." Sis motioned to the card that was now in his new Sylladex. Chris instinctively reached into his jacket for Cleric, his custom, semi-automatic pistol. It was sleek and darker than the outer limits of space. The familiar feeling of its cold metal texture helped Chris relax, if only slightly. He took aim at the card and hit it in the bull's-eye. The shot rang loudly throughout the house. Sis' hand wraps fell neatly into his palm. He nodded in approval. Inside though, he was ecstatic. This was the perfect modus for him! This was the best present he'd ever gotten!

"Thank you." Chris said flatly. Sis nodded and turned the TV back on. Chris Captchalogued all his cards and other presents, holstering Cleric as well. Sis seemed to be focusing on the TV, but to Chris' expertly trained eye, he could tell her mind was elsewhere. Slowly, Chris slid next to Sis. She still didn't look at him. Then he did something he'd never done before. He put his arm around her rock-solid waist. After a moment, she turned the TV off once more. Then, so fast that Chris could barely register what happened, Sis had him in a vice-grip of a hug. Her arms were steely, as was the rest of her body, but somehow her embrace was soft. Her cheeks were mashed against his. Her breathing was slightly ragged, her pulse faintly elevated. She was sad. **Sis** was sad.

Truth be told though, Chris was sad too. He was, after all, 18. He would be moving out soon enough, leaving Sis to herself. It was at this moment that he realized just how much of a mother Sis had been to him. Since she was ten and he was a newborn, she'd fed him, clothed him, educated him on how to be literate. She'd beaten the shit out of bullies that tormented Chris and trained him how to fight. Hell, she'd taught him just about everything he knew about life. And now he was going to leave soon. This thought brought a wash of grief over him like he'd never felt before. He hugged Sis back harder. The walls bore mute witness to the silent display of affection. After what seemed like hours, they broke the embrace. The area around Sis' eyes was ever so slightly red and puffy. She hurriedly looked away. After a moment she jerkily got up from the couch, which was radically different from her usual fluid motions. She walked over to her bag full of fight gear.

"I have a fight. I'll be back tonight." She walked out the door. Before it closed, it paused. Her voice floated out from behind it. It still had its characteristic force behind it, but it sounded slightly cracked.

"The password is 'little bro'. And Chris…I love you." The door shut, leaving Chris to be in shock, alone.

All Homestuck (C) concepts are the property of Mr. Andrew Hussie.


End file.
